Summoning Santa
Publishers Summary Germaine sits by a window, reading a book, following the words with the finger. It is snowing outside the window, and a very small cauldron sits beside her book, puffing smoke. Foamy appears from below. : Foamy : So, what's going on this merry evening? : Germaine : I'm going to summon Santa. : Foamy : Who does the what, now? : Germaine : I want to know if there really is a Santa. So I'm going to cast a spell to get his spirit to arrive here. : Foamy : Dude, do you really want to fuck with Santa? I mean, seriously! The guy is like, four hundred pounds. I'm sure he could crush your head with an ass cheek. : Germaine : Waving her hand at Foamy, angrily. : Silence! Reads from book. : Oh, northern man of reindeer flight, {Foamy starts drinking from a cup and a small saucer.} heed me now, this winter's night. From nothern lands to southern ground, appear before us right here and now! Thunder and lightening strike, and Annoyed Elf appears next to Germaine's head. Foamy stops drinking from the cup. Annoyed Elf falls out of midair next to Germaine's book. : Annoyed Elf : Looking around. : Where the hell am I? : Germaine : Um... Points at Annoyed Elf. : You're not Santa. : Annoyed Elf : Well, no shit. I'm a fucking elf. : Foamy : Hey, he's almost as short as I am! : Annoyed Elf : Points at foamy. : Shut up. Santa is still pissed at you for that nut tossing incedent in the park a few years ago. : Foamy : rolling his eyes. Jesus never held a grudge like this. : Annoyed Elf : Can I get the fuck out of here, now? I'm an elf and I need to work on some toys so spoiled brats like you have something to play with for five minutes come Christmas morn. : Germaine : What's it like working in a toy factory? : Annoyed Elf : Oh, it's fucking horrible. Long hours, low pay, no medical benefits, and I think there's asbestos in the vending machine. : Foamy : What, no union? : Annoyed Elf : Yeah, right. Most of the elf jobs are going to China, since they're cheaper, more productive, and roughly the same size, Santa seems to think that dealing abroad would increase profit margin. : Germaine : I don't believe Santa is that cold hearted. : Annoyed Elf : Believe it lady, and it's all because of you fucking bastards commercialize the hell out of Christmas. Back in the day, if you got a wooden toy train, everything was great. Now, if you don't get the latest cell phone, your world falls apart. Now Santa is building fucking video game systems out of toasters for some extra scratch. Points at Germaine. : I hope you're happy. : Germaine : You think you could ask Santa to bring me a new spell book? : Annoyed Elf : What did I just say? Greedy, greedy, greedy. : Foamy : Send this bastard back north, will you? His overwhelming jollyness is making me all teary-eyed. : Germaine : Looks at book. : Let's see. Ah! "Elfrisism", page eight-ninety-two. : Annoyed Elf : Well, hurry up. : Germaine : Reading from book. Elfen home be not alone. We send you back to your land of gnomes. Go back to work on merry toys for happy children, both girls and boys. Thunder and lightening strike, and Annoyed Elf dissapears. : Germaine : You know, for an elf, he wasn't too jolly. : Foamy : Hey, you work on that many toys and you know something's got to snap. End screen appears.